


A Place To Rest

by semperama



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - Pinto [2]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-11-23 13:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperama/pseuds/semperama
Summary: Answering questions on Twitter tires Chris out. Zach makes it better.





	A Place To Rest

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after Chris answered questions on Twitter while doing press for The Finest Hours. Unfortunately I don't have links to every individual tweet (if someone wants to help me out with that, I'd be much obliged), but the references are all to answers Chris gave to fan questions.

After the PR team leaves, after Chris has stood in the shower for thirty minutes to wash away the thick film of embarrassment, after he has changed into his softest flannel pajama pants and climbed into bed, he sees he has five missed calls from Zach. As exhausted and drained as he is, just seeing Zach’s name makes him feel like crying—and that brings on the embarrassment all over again. Wonderful.

Too exhausted to even hold the phone, he lays it on the pillow next to his head and hits the call button and then the speaker button. He stares at the ceiling while he listens to it ring…and ring…and ring…until he’s sure that Zach isn’t going to pick up, and the urge to give in and cry grows almost too big to ignore. But then the line clicks and all of a sudden Zach’s voice is right there in his ear.

“Neato bandido, Pine? Really?”

The wave of relief that breaks over him is immense and immediate. After two hours of feeling like a zoo animal, the familiarity of Zach’s gentle ribbing acts like a balm on his poor tired, introverted soul. If Zach wants to make fun of him for the rest of the fucking night, until they both fall asleep, he can go for it. It would be more than welcome.

Chris musters the energy for a belated chuckle, but it comes out a little watery. He swallows hard before he speaks. “I don’t know how you do this shit 24/7/365. It’s just…it’s…”

“Aww, poor baby.” Surprisingly, Zach does sound a little sympathetic. Chris expected to receive a whole lot more razzing before they got to the comfort part of the evening. “Really though, you did fine. I’m sure everyone ate it up. You know your fans find your social ineptitude endearing.”

“Hey, I’m not socially inept,” Chris says, mock pouting. “I’m just not a performing monkey. There’s a difference.”

“You’re an actor, Chris. I’m pretty sure that’s the very definition of a performing monkey.”

Okay, point Zach. Chris sighs and flops over on his side so he can stare at his phone and wish he was staring at Zach instead. His voice is soothing, but his presence would be even better. It suddenly feels like it’s been ages since they last saw each other.

[“I took a picture of my sock, Zach,”](http://pine-farr.tumblr.com/post/136983386527/someone-obviously-asked-him-about-why-he-never) he groans. He’s not even close to being done wallowing. “I said ‘twit’ instead of ‘tweet’. I embarrassed the hell out of myself. Or it feels like I did. For two hours.”

“Hey, it could be worse. You could have tried to talk about Fetty Wap on national television.”

“Oh, fuck.” And all of a sudden, Chris is laughing—great peals of laughter that have him half-sitting up in bed so he can clutch at his stomach and protect Zach from going deaf. “Oh my God, I had forgotten—” He flops back down on the pillow, still giggling and wiping tears from under his eyes. “Jesus, yeah, you win. You win for sure.”

“Your support and sensitivity are always appreciated,” Zach sighs, but Chris knows him well enough to hear the smile in his voice. He closes his eyes and imagines it, and it makes him smile too, wider than he already was.

They fall silent for a little while. Chris can actually hear Zach breathing on the other end of the line, and he keeps his eyes closed while he listens, indulges a recurring fantasy that they are lying in bed together, that it’s something they do all the time—stretch out next to each other and talk about their days and then fall asleep with their bodies curled around each other. He wonders what Zach is thinking about. He wonders what the chances are that he’s thinking the same thing.

“Thanks for calling me, man,” he murmurs, his voice lower and rougher than he intended it to be.

Zach lets out a little hum. “Of course. I know how you get after stuff like this.”

“How do I get?” Chris asks.

“You…” Zach trails off for a moment, then clears his throat and tries again. “You start to feel burdened by people’s expectations, and by the fakeness of it all. You worry that you’re not authentic, and that when you are authentic, no one will like you. You want to know that…there are people like me who know you and like you for who you are, not what you can give them. People with no expectations, who you can be yourself with. People who love you unconditionally.”

This time, Chris doesn’t feel embarrassed at the tears welling up in his eyes. It’s one thing that Zach knows him so well that he can describe exactly what he’s feeling so accurately and succinctly. It’s another thing entirely to realize that yes, those are all the reasons why Chris still wants to talk to Zach when he is drained and has nothing left to give of himself. When life has run him ragged, Zach is his place of rest.

“You love me unconditionally?” he whispers.

Zach’s laugh is low and soft and so affectionate it makes Chris’s heart ache. “Well, I certainly don’t love you for your ability to withstand horror movies or to be brief with your coffee orders.”

Chris groans, even though he’s grinning. “Did you really read every fucking answer?”

“Every single one, Christopher.”

And yeah, that sounds a lot like love to Chris.


End file.
